Hugh wanted to laugh, but found it hard to get the sound past the lump in his throat as he gazed at her beauty in the soft light. His gaze slid over her face, down her throat to her br**sts. They were mostly covered by her hair, but the n**ples were poking out like naughty children peering through bushes. He finally tore his eyes from the little red-brown pebbles to slide along her flat belly, down to the soft red-gold curls at the juncture of her thighs.
Oh, yes. He could do this, Hugh decided. His exhaustion was dropping away even as his manhood grew. He took a moment to enjoy the anticipation, his gaze skating over her shapely legs right down to her plump little toes. Then he eased onto his side, facing his wife. He propped his head on one upraised hand and leaned forward to press his lips to hers. She was stiff with tension, even her lips having no give. However, Hugh recalled the passion they had shared in the stable by the cottage and was patient.
He brushed her lips lightly with his own; once, twice, then a third time. Then he slid his tongue out to tease her puckered mouth. When that had little effect, he nuzzled her neck. She relaxed somewhat, a breathless laugh slipping from her lips as he tickled the sensitive flesh. Smiling, Hugh raised his head to find that the pucker was gone. He kissed her again, then let his tongue slip out to tease her full lower lip. She relaxed slowly, allowing her mouth to drift slightly open to him. Relieved that it had been so easy, he deepened the kiss, tilting his head and taking her mouth in a devouring caress.
He continued to kiss her for several moments until he thought she'd forgotten her fears, then he brushed the long strands of soft hair away from one breast and cupped it gently. Willa stiffened slightly, but showed no other response, so he fondled the breast, palming it, then catching the nipple between thumb and forefinger. Hugh enjoyed the feel of her soft flesh against his callused skin. She was kissing him back, which he took to be a good sign and he continued to touch her as he ran through the instructions from the treatise in his head. Preparations of the mind and body beforehand were out of the question now, but he didn't think that would matter. He didn't feel any burning desire to relieve himself. As for the rest...
"You see, women differ from men in that they are cold... 'Tis necessary to... er... fondle the wife's 'lower parts' to... er... raise her body to the proper... er... heat - " Father Brennan's words rang in his ears.
"How do you know when she is the correct temperature?" He'd asked, and the man had answered, "... she will begin to 'speak as if she were babbling.' That is when you shall know to commence with the actual... commencing."
Hugh hadn't had the chance to read all of De secretis Mulierum, but what he'd read had confirmed the priest's words. Breaking the kiss, he rubbed his thumb over her nipple, then bent to draw her flesh into his mouth. Willa didn't feel cold to him, but she wasn't babbling incoherently, either, now that her mouth was free. In fact, she wasn't making any sounds at all, he realized with a small frown. Not even the little moans and mewls of pleasure she'd made in the stable. She didn't even have her arms around him as she had then. They were lying - hands still fisted - at her sides.
Disconcerted by this realization, he wondered briefly if perhaps it might not be her position that was the problem. They had been standing in the stable; perhaps she was not as aroused lying down. He briefly considered urging her into an upright position, then decided against it. The treatise had said nothing about standing. It had said to fondle her lower regions until she babbled, so he would fondle her till she babbled. Continuing to suckle at her breast, he let his hand drift down over her belly, relief coursing through him as the muscles in her stomach quivered beneath his fingertips. Surely that was a good sign? Hugh slid them through the soft hair between her legs and dipped them in to find her core. His eyes slid closed when he found her warm and moist and welcoming. That had to be a good sign, too, he thought, straining to hear any babbling.
She wasn't babbling. But then, he'd just started, he reassured himself. She would babble. He intended to do this right.
Willa's head was about to explode like a rosebud bursting open at the kiss of sunlight. Hugh was driving her mad.
Eada's edict that she wasn't to say anything wasn't helping. Willa had the maddening need to move and groan and writhe and cry out. She was biting all of that back. Not that Eada had said she couldn't move, but she had said that he would tell her if she should, and he hadn't told her and she was afraid of doing something wrong. She wished to be a good wife. Besides, she was sure that if she arched and writhed as she wished to, she would be unable to keep herself from moaning.
Hugh's hand slid between her legs and Willa closed her eyes briefly, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands as she fought her body. Oh this was... this was... oh dear God. She wanted to clasp him to her breast. She wanted to drag his head away from her breast and pull him up to kiss her again. She wanted to arch into his caresses and -
Cold air touched her wet nipple as he raised his head and Willa blinked her eyes open, managing what she hoped was a serene smile but suspected was more of a grimace as he glanced up at her. She noted the perplexity in his gaze and tried harder to smile, relieved when he bent his head to her other breast.
Dear God! Why wasn't she allowed to say anything? Eada had said, "There's nothin' a man hates more than a babbling bride in his bed. Just keep your mouth shut. Say nary a word. That shall please him more than anything else ye could do, I'm sure."
But, dear God, she was paying a heavy price for her silence.
Hugh raised his head again. Willa managed another grimacing smile. A bewildered expression passed over his face and he watched her closely. Then he left off his caressing and she felt him thrust one finger inside her. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying out, her expression twisting with the effort, her body as taut as could be to keep from riding his hand. This was becoming more painful than pleasurable.
Much to Willa's relief, Hugh shook his head slightly, and took his hand away. Finally, she thought. Finally, he would just get it over with. That was all she wished now. For him to mount her as Eada had said he would and plant the twins. She could not bear much more of this. She'd barely had that thought when she realized that he was not moving to mount her. He was moving down the bed to be sure, but he was -
"Ah!" The word slipped from her lips despite her best efforts when his head disappeared between her legs and she felt a caress like warm, wet velvet. The first touch sent pleasure through her like none she'd ever experienced. Her body seemed to contract under wave after wave of some release. Then Hugh raised his head, a hopeful expression on his face.
"Did you say something?"
"Nay," Willa lied on a breathy sigh. Hope entered her own expression. "Did you wish me to say something?"
He hesitated, frowning again, then shook his head in a bewildered way and again disappeared between her legs. Disappointed, Willa bit her lip as he set back to work on her sensitive flesh. His caress was almost too much to bear. She almost groaned aloud as the excitement began to build in her again. Oh, this was awful. She could not withstand another - She bit off a gasp, and strained not to move as he inserted a finger inside her while continuing his oral caresses. She could not bear... could not... she... Even though her mouth was tightly closed, and her teeth were grinding together, she heard a high keening sound come from her as the waves of pleasure burst upon her again. She cut the sound off abruptly, hoping he'd not heard her as Hugh raised another hopeful gaze.
"I thought I heard something?"
She shook her head a bit frantically, aware that her breath was coming through her nose like that of a snorting bull. And was that more attractive than talking? she wondered a little resentfully. But perhaps he could not tell from his position.
"Hmm." He scratched his head, apparently greatly troubled by something. Then determination entered his eyes and he ducked out of sight again.
Willa felt tears gather in her eyes as he set to work again. This was awful! This was some form of hellish torment!
That was it, she realized quite suddenly. She'd died from the poisoning and gone to hell. She was to suffer through all eternity with this unbearable pleasure pounding at her as she tried to keep from moving or making a sound. Oh, the devil was a diabolical beast!
That was her last almost sensible thought before she was overwhelmed by pure sensation. Her body thrummed to the touch of the man who could only be the devil's assistant. She knew from the moment that the passion began to build in her that this time it was going to kill her if she could not react. Her eyes were tearing, her heart pounding, and her body trembling with the effort not to speak or move. She would surely die. Then, just as a hurricane-sized wave of pleasure was about to overtake her, some friendly demon placed an idea in her head. Willa clamped her thighs on either side of Hugh's head to deafen him as she rose up on the bed and screamed for all she was worth. It was a magnificent scream. All those little grunts and groans and moans and sighs that she'd been forced to hold in, all the physical responses she'd denied herself, all of this combined into one glorious earth-shattering shriek of pure pleasure. It was most satisfying. Almost as satisfying as the pleasure that roared through her. She was so consumed by her fulfillment, it took a moment to realize that Hugh was clawing frantically at her legs, trying to free himself.
Falling back limp on the linens, Willa let her legs drop away and stared woozily at the top of the draped bed. She felt quite intoxicated with pleasure. If this was hell, she was all for it. Hugh came up gasping for air, which led to a coughing fit of gigantic proportions. Willa was strong. Once her legs had clamped around his head, he'd been unable to remove them. His gaze turned to her hopefully as his coughing ended. He'd hoped that her closing her legs like that was a good sign, that perhaps she'd started into her babbling. Instead the woman looked dead bored. She was lying as still as she had throughout, her glazed eyes fixed on the drapings over the bed. She wasn't even tense anymore. Her fear obviously had been completely wiped away by the boredom she suffered. He was a complete failure.
Despondency overtaking him, he sank back on his haunches and glared at his lap. His manhood, of course, was not bored. He'd grown harder and stiffer with every moment as he'd attempted to pleasure her. She was so warm and soft. Just looking at her was pure enjoyment; tasting and touching her had excited him beyond anything he'd experienced before. Despite the fact that he had not raised her temperature as the treatise had instructed, he wanted her. Badly. Not only was he a failure, he was a despicable failure.
"Are you going to plant the twins now?"
Hugh glanced up sharply at that question. Her voice was euphoric; she sounded almost drunk. However, she still looked limp and bored. Perhaps it was his hearing at fault. She'd squeezed his head rather hard. He stuck a finger in one ear and jiggled it about briefly, then did the same to the other ear.
"My lord?"
He gave up on his ears and glanced at her still face. "Do you wish me to?"
"Oh aye," she breathed.
Well, he recalled now, the De secretis mulierum had said that a man's heat created the excitement in the woman and that she was strengthened by the joining. At least he knew he wouldn't be hurting her. But it would be a shame if she finally got excited only after he'd poured his heat and strength into her. He very much feared he wouldn't have the energy to do anything about her excitement once he was done. His exhaustion was creeping back up on him.
Shrugging, he moved between her legs.
Chapter Twelve
Willa was slow to wake up. Exhaustion seemed to cover her like a cloak and every muscle in her body ached. She felt horrible. Waking up really didn't seem a good idea. More sleep obviously was needed. Satisfied with that decision, she sniffled miserably, let her eyes droop closed and settled back into slumber again.
A groan sounded from the opposite side of the bed, and Willa scowled as she was drawn back to wakefulness again. The sound was familiar. She suspected it was that sound or one similar that had awakened her in the first place. Rather rude of her husband, she decided, since he'd kept her up half the night with his coughing. And that after falling asleep on her, she recalled, some of her irritation returning.
After torturing her with pleasure for what seemed like hours, the man had mounted her as Eada had said he would, and plunged into her, taking her innocence. That hadn't been painful at all. Well, not really. A twinge mostly. Not at all the agony she'd expected. Then he'd pumped himself in and out of her as Eada had also described, which had been merely interesting at first. Then his motion had started to stir some of her earlier excitement. She'd just started to tense up, her fingers curling into her palms again to keep from hugging him closer and urging him on, when he'd cried out and spilled his seed into her. No sooner had he completed the act than he'd collapsed atop her, remaining there without further movement.
At first, Willa had thought that he was simply recovering from his exertion and would resume his attentions and ease the tension that had built in her again. Then she'd heard what could only be a snore and had realized that he was sleeping on her! There would be no more sweet agony.
Irritated and disappointed, she'd pushed him off her in a fine huff, but he'd not awoken to appreciate it. Willa had rolled onto her side with her back to him and tried to go to sleep, but he'd kept her awake most of the night with his coughing. Her emotions had run the gamut through the night. Her irritation with him had given way to concern at the harsh, deep coughing, until she realized that he was sleeping right through it while she could not. Her irritation had promptly returned.
Now she was exhausted and grumpy and not at all happy to be awoken by his grunts and moans.
Another groan reached her ears and she turned to glare at him, only to see that he was trying to ease into a sitting position and having some trouble doing so. The grimace on his face could be mistaken for nothing but agony. Concern again replaced her anger.
"What is it? Is something wrong?" she asked with mounting alarm, turning on the bed and sitting up so that she could look at him.